


What the Shadows Left Behind

by esooM



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depression, Disturbing Themes, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esooM/pseuds/esooM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*DISCONTINUED*Nothing ever really slows down for long enough in Beacon Hills. In the aftermath of the Nogitsune the pack are left picking up the pieces of their broken lives while having to face the prospect of a threat eating them up from within. Relationships are tested, spirits are broken and the pack are left clinging to each other on the edge of oblivion as the shadows creep in...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Scott Mccall was no stranger to hospital visits. He was constantly coming and going amidst the hustle and bustle and acrid stench of chemicals and sickness to visit his mom and had had a couple of trips there after mistakes made throughout his youth. But he swore at that exact moment he hated hospitals and never wanted to spend another second in one. 

Because there he stood at the end of a hospital bed, watching over his best friend and his first love, her dark hair fanned across the harsh white of the hospital linen and her face peaceful in its rest as the heart monitor pulsed on. She hadn't woken up in over a week and every minute that passed by drained Scott’s hope as visiting doctor’s became more grim and vague with every report on her condition, as if they believed that by not telling him exactly what was wrong would be deluding him that she was fine.

Allison Argent was dying.

It wasn't just the time and the doctor’s that told him that though. It was the stench that lay thick over her, a stench he wished he were less familiar with that clung to her despite how clean and sterile the room was and made him sick to his stomach. And he wasn't the only one that could smell it.

The stench of death made Isaac Lahey want to run and never stop running until he had torn the scent from every inch of his being. Sitting in that hospital room made him remember the way that it had smelt wrapped around Erica, wrapped around Boyd, wrapped around Aiden and it made him desperately want it to not be the last thing he smelt of Alison. He never wanted to forget the apple cinnamon that had danced from her hair so sweetly to fill his breath. He wanted to stop breathing altogether just so he could hold on to the memory. Anything would be better than the stench.

Anything except the constant building pressure filling Lydia Martin up from the inside. It nibbled at the edges of her tongue and tickled her throat, forming a pit in her stomach and a pain through her vocal chords that grew with every second she watched her dark haired friend slipping away. But she wouldn't succumb, she would fight it till the bitter end even if it was pointless. She knew what this pressure was, she knew what it meant. But she would not scream, because no amount of pain could be worse than what that scream came with. 

This was all Stiles Stillinski’s fault. That was all he could tell himself as he sat at the foot of her bed, bouncing and tapping in his anxious helplessness. He had let the void slither into his mind and spread like a parasite throughout Beacon Hills. He had let it grow stronger and take his strength and that was how it had been able to take the Oni, and that was how Alison had been stabbed. He should have fought harder. He had caused so much suffering and now he was going to kill the people closest to him. It was all his fault.

Kira Yukimura wasn't sure why she couldn't stop crying. She barely knew Alison after all. They had only met a week ago, there was no reason for this to be hitting her so hard. She should cry when Alison’s dead, not when she’s dying. Nobody else in the room was crying and they'd all known her so much longer. She didn't know why they’d let her stay in the room to begin with, there were people that hadn't been allowed to stay that had known her longer after all, why should she take their opportunity to spend their last moments with Alison from them. She was one of her first friends here and Kira was already going to lose her. She just wished they’d had longer. Maybe that was why she was crying. She was weeping for her lost future.

And then there were the onlookers, those that didn't know Alison well enough or didn't know her at all but still wanted to show their support, sitting outside or pacing back and forth from the vending machine at one end of the hall to the storage closet at the other end. Derek Hale was overwhelmed with guilt every time he saw her expressionless face in that hospital bed and thought of everything his world had taken from her. Her aunt, her mother, her innocence. Was it going to take her now too?

Cora Hale had always hated flying but hadn't hesitated boarding the first plane she could find when her brother told her what had happened to Alison. Cora had spent part of a year working alongside the hunter before she left and had grown fond of her. Now she was left wondering if this would be different if she had stayed and been there to help them tackle the Nogitsune and the Oni. She could have at least warned her.

Malia Tate didn't know why she was there. She didn't know Allison. She didn't really know any of these people yet there she was, sitting outside a dying girl’s room, covering her nose to mask the stench slipping under the crack in the door. Everything was so much brighter than she remembered it being, fluorescent lights glared down at her like the light of the afternoon sun and she curled her body tight in on itself as every gust of wind shot through her like an electric current. Everything was so raw in her human flesh that she had been driven to watch over a group of people she knew nothing about. How stupid of her. Worst of all, she was actually rooting for them.

The rhythmic pulsing tone was the only constant any of them had in those dark hours spent in a sea of blinding white, the only definite sign that she was still with them, that they hadn't lost her just yet. If only she’d just open her eyes. Why wouldn't she open her eyes?

“You should bite her…” Isaac said suddenly from where he was hunkered down in the corner, eyes desperate as he stared at Scott, “that’ll heal her right?”

Scott nodded, paused, shook his head, paused, sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know…” he began, not taking his eyes off the sleeping girl, “there’s a chance it might save her but there’s also a chance that it might kill her.”

“Look at her,” Isaac implored, “she’s going to die either way.”

“No she’s not,” Scott argued, turning to glare at Isaac, “she’s strong. She’ll hold on.”

“She’s going to die,” Isaac continued stubbornly, “I know that and Lydia knows that.” Lydia looked over at him in surprise and he nodded at her, “you can feel the scream coming can’t you?”

She looked away in shame, drawing her knees closer to her chest and hugging them for comfort and Scott stared at her in shock. 

“Lydia…” he trailed off.

“I won’t scream,” she insisted, eyes damp with her determination, “I won’t.”

“Scott give her the bite,” Isaac repeated, rising from his position to stand eye to eye with his alpha.

“It might kill her,” Scott refused, tightening his grip on the bed railing.

“And it might be the only way we can save her!” Isaac yelled, closing the space between them in several long strides and jabbing him in the chest, “she’s your pack isn’t she! That means she’s your responsibility! And you’re just going to let her die?!”

“I won’t bite her,” Scott stood firm, turning to glare at his beta viciously.

“Of course you won’t!” Isaac laughed mirthlessly, “because you’re a coward Scott! You’re no alpha! You’re a failure and now you’re just going to stand by and let her die! Her blood is on your hands now!”

The room held its breath as Isaac’s tirade ended and he was left glaring, eyes burning yellow, at his alpha in preparation for a response, for actions to be taken. For a second it seemed as though Scott wasn't going to react at all to Isaac before he took a step away from Allison’s bed and turned to face Isaac, his movements calm and balanced. Then his eyes were burning crimson and his fist had crunched into the side of Isaac’s jaw, sending him reeling and toppling over onto his back. 

Isaac stared up at Scott in shock, raising a hand to his now throbbing jaw despite himself. A heat rushed through him and he leapt to his feet, feeling the shifting and pulsing as his face changed and his fangs grew before he was flinging himself across the room, claws swinging. Scott rose up to meet him in a clash of muscle and fury and the room exploded with panicked movement.

Stiles was up first to jam his arms between them and attempt to push them apart with his pitiful human strength, then Lydia was grabbing Scott by the shoulders and Kira seized Isaac and in a painful heaving and pulling managed to separate the two and drag them each across the room. Stiles wrapped an arm around Scott and Lydia secured his arms behind his back as he continued to fight against them to attack Isaac, who was putting up as much of a fight for Kira as she clung to his wrists to secure him. 

“Enough,” Stiles muttered, “that’s enough guys.” When they continued to spit and snarl and struggle Stiles straightened abruptly and roared, “I said that’s enough!”

The wolves both fell silent, turning instead to look at Stiles, their blood turned to ice at the rage and the venom that had edged his words like razor blades. His eyes were left dark and hollow as he stared them each down, his jaw set in frustration as he released Scott and stepped away from him.

“This is stupid!” he hissed, shaking his head at them, “how is killing each other going to help Allison huh? Answer me that question big bad werewolves. We’ve lost enough already. We need each other now more than ever. We need to pull together, not fall apart.” He turned back to look at Allison grimly, “it’s what she would have wanted.”

Isaac went slack in Kira’s arms and she let him fall to his knees weakly. He looked tearfully up at them and whimpered, “I just don’t want to lose her… I can’t lose her…”

Scott pulled his arms from Lydia’s grip and went to crouch down before his beta, resting an arm lightly on his shoulder as a form of comfort, any sign of their fight melting back into their masks of grief.

“She’s not going to die Isaac,” he reassured him, “I promise you, I won’t let her die.”

Isaac nodded limply and shuddered as his tears flowed freely, his arms wrapped around his own thin frame tightly to hold in his sobs. Scott turned his body slowly so he was sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to draw him close into his side, like a younger brother. 

Kira let herself slip down onto her knees behind Isaac and drooped forward like a dying flower, resting her face between his shoulder blades as her tears returned anew as dewdrops for her falling petals. Stiles and Lydia crossed the room to join the huddle, Lydia pulling Kira close to her and taking Isaac’s hand with her spare arm as Stiles wrapped an arm around Scott and reached the other around to encompass Kira and Isaac. 

They all collectively pulled tighter into each other and huddled together like penguins for winter as the storm loomed constantly over their heads, the only reminder of it’s omnipresence the constant beep that filled their every second. 

“Even if…” Stiles began slowly and carefully, “even if she does die… we’ll be ok… we’ll hold onto each other to stay afloat… for her…”

Lydia smiled tearily across at him and linked her hand with his at the base of Kira’s back, giving it a light squeeze to let him feel her appreciation. She bit her lip as she felt the warmth of tears beginning to form behind her eyes and turned to rest her forehead against Kira’s shoulder to hide them from the others. She hated it when people saw her cry, it made her seem as weak and useless as she felt and facades are often difficult to rebuild. 

And together in the white haze of a hospital room their hearts seemed to beat in time to the heart monitor as they clung to each other for dear hope, brushing at the edge of oblivion as Alison slept on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean Allison died at the end of 3b?? No she didn't I think you're mistaken friend. Yeah this is an example of my complete denial that those events ever took place...


	2. Awake

Chapter One  
Awake  
Cora was holding tightly to her brother as they watched the group struggle within themselves, the horrible sensation of helplessness washing over them both as all they could do was stare and hope. At the window they were joined by a third figure and turned to face a stranger that blinked at them like a distant memory, or a walking reflection with a shroud of identical dark hair.

“Are they going to be ok?” Malia asked, not taking her eyes off the huddle. 

Derek shrugged at the stranger beside him, “I don’t know.”

“They will be,” Cora answered, turning to face the newcomer, “they’ll take care of each other.”

“How can you be so sure?” Malia pressed.

“Because they’re pack,” she said confidently, “and pack stick together no matter what. So they’ll be fine, even if it takes years, they’ll be ok in the end.”

“But we won’t have to worry about that anyway,” Derek chimed in.

“How come?”

“Because I know Allison Argent. I know her blood line. Argent’s don’t die easy.” He turned and gave Malia a reassuring smile, “that girl’s going to live.”

***  
The last thing Alison remembered was tears falling like rain upon her face. She lay in a strong pair of arms as her strength poured crimson from the wound in her chest, her lips wet with the taste of metal. Her chest had been torn apart by the Oni’s blade and she knew she was going to die but she wasn't afraid. Death would be painless for her, leaving them behind would be the thing that hurt.

“You have to tell my dad…” she had gasped, each word seeming to take eternities to form as her vision swam, “you have to tell my dad…” 

Darkness was clawing at the edges of her universe as her grip loosened on the hand she clutched to keep her grounded. No, it was too soon. She had to tell them what she had seen. She had to tell them.  


“Tell him…” she gasped, her lungs feeling as though they were flooding and washing her away.

Her voice caught on the words and trailed off as she gasped, desperate to stay afloat and stop her head from slipping under the surface. They had to know. It was silver, silver killed the Oni. She was the only one that knew and she couldn't tell them. She had died too soon.

The emptiness was soothing as it filled her thoughts, stripping her of all she was. She felt herself becoming lighter and more filled with warmth as it all slipped between her fingers. There were no more Oni, Nogitsunes, Kitsunes, Kanimas and werewolves. She wasn't a hunter and she had never felt loss, never felt pain. She was empty and she was glad for it. 

She hung in the darkness, slipping through the cracks of reality and became… nothing. She was a vessel for the shadows as they filled her to the brim, flowing through her and pulling her deeper, deeper, deeper. Down, down, down into eternity.

She greeted death gladly, like an old friend.

“Allison.”

The voice cut through her reverie, filling the nothing with a flash of clarity as something stirred within her. Where it was coming from, who they were calling for, she couldn't remember and she didn't much care. She was so calm, so peaceful in the darkness.

“ALLISON!.”

A different voice, this one harsh with a scream filled her world, sending cracks jagged splitting the edges of the void running through her veins. Then she heard the sobbing, waves of it washing over her as more and more voices called her name.

“Allison!”

She wanted them to stop, she wanted nothing more than the silence to fill her from within again and drag her away from it all. The voices were painful, each scream and each sob pierced through her and sent shocking bursts of awareness through her mind. A memory, a sensation, a thought, she didn't want them. They were tying her to an existence she was trying to leave behind, a life she couldn't even remember anymore.

“Allison… please…”

She knew that voice.

“Allison! Don’t you die Allison!”

Her father. No. She didn't want him to see her body, she didn't want him to hurt. She didn't want him to be alone. Too many Argents’ had died. 

Something burst to life deep within the darkness. Argent… silver…

“Allison… please…”

Isaac. 

“Please… come back to us…”

Isaac no. 

“Please…”

She felt her world slow to a stop as his voice became all that filled her nothingness.

“We need you…”

Why couldn't he just let her go? It was peaceful here. Death was easy.

“I need you…”

Living was harder.

There was an explosion of light and sound and sensation as Allison came back to herself. Air filled her lungs and she gasped hungrily at it, choking on the blood still oozing between her teeth as her heart pounded violently in her chest. She felt the arms still firm around her tense as gasps and noises of relief filled her ears. She was a person again, she was real and surrounded by the people she cared for the most.

She felt a hand seize hers and hold it tight and Scott pulled her closer to him in his arms. She heard Lydia sob in relief and Kira laugh tearfully and felt a pair of lips brush her forehead lightly. 

It was only then that she felt the pain living brought with it. She felt the Oni’s blade tearing through her flesh for the first time and her back arched as she screamed, squeezing the calloused hand that had grabbed her as tightly as she could. But the pain gave her strength and she opened her eyes to see them all looking down at her.

“Silver,” she gasped, her voice hoarse and strained, “that kills them… silver…”

Her father stared at her in shock for a second before understanding dawned across his face and he nodded, giving her hand one final squeeze before he stood.

He patted Isaac on the shoulder and yelled, “come on! I need your help. We can end this battle tonight!”

Isaac nodded wildly at him and wiped the tears from his eyes as he stood to chase after him, leaving Allison with Scott and Lydia. They’d get her somewhere safe, he knew it.

Allison smiled as she watched them go and let her body go limp once more, leaving the battle to those that could still fight. 

“Allison hang on,” Scott reassured her, “I’ll get you to a hospital.” He got to his feet, holding her tight to his chest like a small child and turned to Lydia, “it’ll be faster if I run. Can you stay here with him?”

It was then that Allison saw Lydia for the first time, her face smudged with makeup from her tears and her hair a tangled rat nest but alive. And also lying in her lap, his face colorless and sickly and his body shivering, was Stiles, unconscious with his eyes screwed shut as if he were having a nightmare.

Lydia nodded to Scott, “I get it. I’ll stay here. Hurry.” She diverted her gaze to instead meet Allison’s eyes and told her, “hold on ok?”

Allison smiled weakly down at her and she was gone from her field of view as Scott began to run, the motion jostling her in his arms and bringing her hands up to clutch at the throbbing wound in her chest, whimpering at the pain.

“Sorry,” Scott mumbled, his words nearly swept away by the wind rushing around them, “I can’t make the journey any smoother.”

Allison didn't have the strength to answer him and he seemed to understand as he didn't push her, letting her rest her face against him for comfort as they sped down side streets and back alleys, Scott being careful to keep them out of view of the public eye for fear of questioning.

“Thank you by the way,” he whispered, squeezing her arm lightly, “thank you for fighting it.”

Scott slowed to a walk as he spotted the giant building off ahead of them, the lights of Beacon Hills Hospital shining up into the heavens to call them to her, with promises of salvation. 

“Allison we’re here,” he told her breathlessly, his voice cracking in relief, “you’re going to be ok.” 

She didn't respond so he glanced down and saw her eyes closed and her expression peaceful. He shook her lightly but she didn't stir, the smell of her blood growing stale as he began to run again, his footsteps pounding alongside his rapid heartbeat.

“You’re going to be ok,” he repeated, reaching the doors, “you’re going to be just fine Allison. I know you are.”

***  
She was lying in a hospital bed, the air was stale and smelt of disinfectant and her body was heavy with anesthetic. She was stiff and weak and the sheets over her were too confining and itchy. The room was filled with the pulsing of a heart monitor and the sounds of other people breathing all around her. She was alive. 

“What time is it?” she heard Lydia ask, her voice a fresh burst of consciousness to send strength to Allison's fingertips.

“Just after six,” Kira answered, her voice soft and faint, “we should probably head out soon. We have school in a few hours.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Isaac answered defiantly.

“Isaac…” Stiles began wearily, as if it were the beginning of something he had said a thousand times before, “she’s not going to wake up this morning, alright? Us staying here isn't going to change that. We need to go.”

No. She was awake, she was with them, they had to know that. She fought to open her eyes but her lids stayed shut firmly like impenetrable castle doors, leaving her blind and trapped in pitch blackness. Where before darkness had seemed so peaceful, so calming, now it was her prison, keeping her from her friends just inches away from her.

Isaac sighed and Allison heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back as he got to his feet, “fine. I’m going to get some coffee, there’s no way I could sleep.”

“I don’t think any of us can,” Scott chimed in, followed by the sound of footsteps.

They were leaving. Allison fought with every fiber of her being to move, make a sound, lift a finger, anything. She just needed to do something to let them know that she was there. She was a prisoner in her own skin and all she could do was lie there and listen to their footsteps grow fainter as they left her alone again.

Derek stopped them in the hallway outside her room, “I’ll keep an eye on her,” he reassured them, “I’ll message you if there’s any change.”

Scott nodded at him grimly and they walked by the older wolf, trailing after their alpha in a daze as they left the hospital and stepped out into misty early morning, blinking and shielding their eyes from the sudden brightness. 

Stiles retrieved his keys from where he had stowed them in his back pocket and tossed them to Scott. “Here, you drive. I’m wrecked.”

Scott caught them skillfully and span them in his hand as they crossed the parking lot to where the jeep had been parked hours before and piled in silently, rubbing their tired eyes and barely stifling yawns. Scott turned the keys in the ignition and backed them slowly out of the parking lot and out onto the quiet roads, just beginning to fill with early morning commuters on their way to work. 

Scott barely even had to concentrate as he drove, taking a route that had been ingrained into his memory in the past few weeks. Three left turns, a right turn, straight for three hundred meters then a sharp left into a tiny drive through coffee hut that you’d miss if you weren't looking for it. 

He rolled the window down as he pulled into the small line and turned to face the group, holding out his hand expectantly. The car was filled with rustling and sluggish movement as they fished in their pockets, digging around for whatever loose change they had on them and depositing their findings in Scott’s outstretched hand. He brought his hand back and inspected the coins and bills, counting silently while moving his lips to form the numbers and nodding to himself.

The person in the line in front of them pulled away from the window so Scott gently prodded the gas pedal with his toe to push them up to give their order.

“Hey kids,” the small, middle aged woman at the counter greeted them cheerily, “the usual?”  


Scott nodded and held out the cash for her to take. “Thanks Martha.”

She smiled at him and entered his unspoken order, “how’s Allison?”

“No change,” he said grimly, holding out his hand for the receipt she passed him, “she’s still non responsive.”

Martha pursed her lips, “that’s too bad. Don’t give up on her though kids. You gotta have faith.”

Scott nodded gratefully and she left them there to head into the back to make their drinks, leaving them all alone with their thoughts. Kira yawned openly in the front seat as she drew her knees up against her chest, using them as a place to rest her tired head while Scott rested his forehead on the steering wheel next to her, his hands still gripping it tightly, turning his knuckles white. 

In the back Isaac had slowly slipped sideways till the side of his head was resting against the buzzing window, staring off into space mindlessly. Lydia’s head had drooped so it was resting on Stiles’s shoulder, pinching the bridge of her nose as exhaustion formed a headache and Stiles had steadily sagged in his seat so his head was resting amongst her strawberry blonde locks, his mouth open as he snoozed lightly. 

None of them spoke. They didn’t need to. They all knew what the other was thinking about. It had been nearly four weeks now since Allison had slipped into a coma and with every passing hour it was becoming more likely that she was probably going to stay that way. The idea of their losing a pack member was becoming more of a reality even as they sat in the jeep, trapped in their own spiraling dread. They had all swam out to the deep end together, but now all felt as if they were drowning alone.

Martha returned to the window, a tray laden with five drinks clutched in her chubby hands that she passed out the window for Scott to take.

“See you kids around,” she said by way of farewell.

Scott nodded to her gratefully and drove out of her sight, passing the tray across to Kira as he started to take them along the route to school. Kira dished out the order, passing first to Isaac, then Lydia, then bumping Stiles in the face with his scalding drink to wake him up so he could take it. She held her own coffee tight in one hand and Scott’s in the other, handing it to him so he could take sips at every stop light, scalding his tongue with every mouthful but not stopping to give it time to cool down regardless.

The trip from the coffee hut to the school building was a speedy one without the rush hour traffic that always hit around eight thirty in the morning so it was barely past seven by the time Scott parked the jeep and they all exited the vehicle to retrieve their bags from the trunk. 

The morning air was chilly as they walked together to the boys locker room, never locked due to the apparent belief of the janitorial services that nobody would bother to attempt to steal anything from the place. It wasn't an entirely unfounded belief either as the harsh smell of body odor and a mixture of every brand of deodorant known to man were enough to deter any potential thief. 

Moving through the abandoned jerseys and lacrosse gear Scott, Stiles and Isaac managed to make it to their lockers and retrieve their lacrosse sticks from the dusty metal boxes, blowing the grit out from between the netting. 

The lacrosse field was as perfectly manicured during the off season as it was during the on. Coach had made sure that there were a group of gardeners working on its green expanse at all times to ensure there were no flaws in its surface when it became time to play again.

Lydia ambled behind them as they walked, leaving a steady trail of footsteps breaking through the damp grass to act as bread crumbs for them to find their way back. Her lapse in concentration left her several hundred meters behind the rest of the group as they all assembled on the bleachers, abandoning their bags on the empty rows. 

She made no effort to catch them though, instead allowing herself a moment to be an outsider to her grief and see the way it was changing them. Gone was the boy with the smile of sunshine and instead there stood a grim faced specter of who he once was. Gone was the girl with the upbeat cheeriness and instead a tired, hollowed out girl had taken her place. Gone was the tough loving yet tender beta. Gone was the witty, sarcastic light in her darkened existence, leaving her in the same dimly lit truth they all inhabited together.

Their suffering had hacked away at them, breaking them down and building them back up again into something new. Carving and molding them and forcing them to age hundreds of years beyond their time while they stare into the belly of the beast and see the truths it kept from the world. 

It occurred to her then all that she had seen of her friends, all that had changed. She had watched them lose their innocence.

“Lydia come on!” Stiles called, “you’ll get hit!”

She blinked and came back to herself, hurrying over to join Stiles as Scott, Kira and Isaac all ran out onto the turf wielding lacrosse sticks like deadly weapons. She tossed her bag into the pile with the others and plonked herself down beside him heavily, linking her arm through his and huddling in close for warmth.

“We really need to find something better to do while they do that,” Lydia announced, her teeth chattering, “or bring blankets.”

“You could go join the game?” Stiles suggested, scooting closer to her and taking a sip of his coffee.

“I could also just throw myself off the top of these bleachers and break all of my bones and save them the trouble,” she said sarcastically, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, “I haven’t forgotten why you stopped playing with them after all.”

“It was only a minor concussion,” he dismissed her with a casual wave of his hand, “I was fine.”

“You needed stitches,” she reminded him.

“I did need those yes,” he agreed, his face flushed in being caught out in his own lie, “only four though!”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, pursing her lips, “I’m just going to stay right here and let the super humans play with each other while we regular people wait for them to tire themselves out so we can leave.”

“Regular,” he said with raised eyebrows and air quotes, “a banshee and a former vessel for a psychopathic, mass murdering fox. We’re just a couple of regular old peas in a pod.”

“Shut up Stillinski,” she groaned, nudging him with her shoulder, “can’t I at least pretend to be normal for five seconds?”

Stiles smiled at her sympathetically and sighed, “I wish.”

“Then you shall receive,” Lydia declared, passing him her coffee to hold as she retrieved her bag and rummaged around in it.

“What are you…?” Stiles began, peering over her shoulder to try and see what she was digging for. 

She sat up straight again suddenly, sending Stiles jumping back in shock as she tossed a thick, heavy book into his lap and retrieved her coffee from him.

“Chemistry notes,” she said proudly, smirking down at them, “having someone else walking around in your body has made your grades drop and don’t you even try to deny it. My mom is a teacher here, I know everything about this place. So, I am here to help get you back on track. It’s the least I can do.”

“No,” he refused, shaking his head wildly, “no way. I can barely tell up from down right now, please don’t make me study that shit.”

“Come on Stiles, just give me this. I need to do something productive or I’ll go out of my freaking mind.”

_“If you died I would literally go out of my freaking mind.”_

Stiles felt his resolve soften and he gave in to her pleas, opening up the notebook to begin reading from the first chapter. She smiled at his feigned enthusiasm at the idea and moved to peer over his shoulder at the straight, perfect rows of undiluted knowledge.

Being occupied had always been better for all of them. Aimlessness led to stagnation and rot and would leave them in the gloomy ditches of their own wracked sub consciousnesses, it was important that they kept moving forward at all costs. 

The sound of a bell ringing could be heard echoing out over the lacrosse field, rapidly causing the game taking place at superhuman speed to disband and lacrosse sticks to be deposited back in the boy’s locker room as the pack headed inside to rejoin the main student populous.

A short form with long dark hair and thickly layered clothes immediately picked up on the scent she had come to associate with the only people she had that were even close to friends and began to force her way through the crowd towards them.

“Hey guys,” Malia called, running up to greet them, “how’s Allison?”

Scott shook his head and Malia’s cheery smile slid from her face like yolk from an egg, “oh… well… I’ll see you guys in history I guess.”

***

Derek stayed at his post alongside his sister long after the others had left, his legs spread out over a set of seats and his arms stretched behind his head to act as a support for his aching neck. He turned slightly where he was sat and his joints cracked noisily, jolting Cora awake from where she had been dozing lightly on the floor beside him.

“What time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

He tilted his head back so he had an upside down view of the clock on the wall and answered, “about 9:30. They’ll be starting second period soon.”

“Any news?” she added, straightening up to face him.

He shook his head solemnly, “nothing. No doctors. Just…” he pointed through the window at a nurse stood beside Allison, “her. And she’s only there to change the bandages.”

The nurse’s work was methodical and overwrought, something she had clearly done year after year with the thoughtless, vague shadow cast over her expression as she worked. Her fingers skimmed nimbly across Allison’s over sensitive flesh as she retied the new, fresh, crisp bandages, sending shivers all along her skin.

She had to let this nurse know she was awake, it was her only chance.

If thoughts were power Allison could move a mountain as she fought to move her leaden limbs, lost in the thick haze that rest upon her. She wasn't asking her body for much. She wasn't expecting acrobatics or marathons. All she needed was to open an eye, make a noise, move a finger and she could come back to reality, they could help her through.

She needed to do this more than she had needed anything in her entire life, not only for her but for everyone in her life. She knew it was self absorbed to think it but she knew that if she died the foundations of her pack would crumble into dust.

Scott would lose his confidence in being an alpha and lose his skill, Lydia would become obsessed with finding some way to bring her back and forget to live, Stiles would go mad with guilt, Kira would be forever wondering what could have been of their friendship. She knew her father would leave; there would be nothing left to tie him to Beacon Hills. But would Isaac? Would his loyalty to the pack outweigh his grief?

Their names became power, their lives became her strength and she felt her body filling itself back in, like a sketch finally receiving its edges. She was here, she was alive and they were going to know it. 

She moved her hand.

***  
It was days like this that spiraled into eternity, seconds stretching into eons and minutes crawling through the blood like pure adrenaline, creating a desperation for change, for action, for anything save for the constant ticking of life dragging by. 

Each moment felt as though it should have been filled with life and movement, raucous and bright, but instead it was filled with the constant gnawing they all felt in their gut as they dreaded what would happen when time began to move at a normal speed again. 

The words spilling forth from Mr Yukimura took form before their eyes, the dull buzzing of each movement of his lips where words should have been in their numbed and exhausted brains hung like mist in the air all around them. And every word became the same thing.

Allison.

She was an obsession that filled their hive mind to bursting with swimming visions of her face. She was a gaping hole aching in their chests and a constant pit of guilt in their guts. She was an empty desk at the back of the room that nobody else dared to fill and the constant stillness of being on the edge of change. All they needed for any of this to change was a phone call and this lifeless state of suspended being would end, one way or another. 

Lydia realized she was beginning to forget what Allison’s voice sounded like. It was right on the edge of her memory, so present in every moment they had shared but lost in the silent weeks between them to be reduced to a lifeless, buzzing murmur. She’d never realized that it was such an important thing to her but now that she had lost it she didn't know how she could possibly go on without it.

It was as she watched the clock that it happened all at once. First Scott’s phone buzzed, then Isaac’s and Stiles’s and Kira’s, before it was finally her turn to fish around in her back for the vibration as it rang silently. She heard sharp intakes of breath from each of them as they all read whatever message it was they had all received and she hurried to find her phone so she could share whatever emotion it was they had been delivered. And it was as her fingers wrapped themselves around her phone and withdrew it from the depths of her handbag that the ache of her scream left her, allowing her body to relax for the first time in weeks. 

Then she read the message and her world came back to life in an explosion of clarity and purpose.

_She’s awake.  
-D_

Papers rustled and chairs scraped as the pack moved as one body, hurrying to their fallen warrior in her time of need. Mr Yukimura faltered in his lesson to stare at them all, bewildered.

“What are you all doing?” he asked, “class isn't over yet.”

“We have to go,” Scott explained, already heading to the door, “she’s awake.”

Understanding filled his eyes and he nodded to his students, “go on, tell her we’re all glad she’s back.”

They all hurried to funnel out together but Kira paused in the doorway, turning back into the class to call, “Malia! Are you coming or not?”

Malia blinked at her in surprise, “what do you mean…?”

“You want to see Allison too don’t you?” she clarified, “come on!”

Malia blushed and looked away, “I barely even know Allison… would it really be ok?”

Kira nodded and bounced back into the classroom to where Malia was sitting, reaching out to take her hand and pull her up onto her feet. She tugged her along out of the room and after the others, only waiting till they were out of direct view of any classrooms before they all started sprinting to the jeep, smiles as wide as the open school doors that greeted them back outside. 

Malia was at a loss for words as she was swept along with them, her bag dragging along the ground as she went and her hair fanning out behind her wildly. She didn't even know they really knew her name, let alone that they wanted her there to see Allison with them after she finally woke up yet here she was, and she couldn't have wished for things to have turned out any better.

For the first time in a long time the jeep felt alive again as they all filled it to bursting, the blue paint job returning to its former vibrant glow and the peppermint hint to the interior smelling sweeter than it ever had. All at once the seats felt crowded once more, they all felt less isolated and alone and could fully appreciate the sensation of each other’s firm arms against their own as their hearts beat together.

Stiles didn't bother to wait to find out if everyone was seated in the back of the jeep before his foot was flat to the floor and they were racing towards the hospital. If his father were there to see his driving he knew he’d be spending a night in a cell but it didn't matter. She was coming back to them at last.

The drive to the hospital had both never felt shorter and at the same time not short enough. All they had wanted was for Allison to come back to them but now that she was awake it left the sour taste of nerves in their mouths. They weren't ready for whatever came next. They didn't know what to expect. When they opened the door who would the girl lying in the bed be? Would it be Allison or would it be someone new? Would they be left to deal with a stranger walking around in their friend’s skin all over again?

They were standing outside her door all too soon and found themselves pausing, none of them daring to reach for the handle. Malia watched them all, confused, and was the one to break the silence.

“Why are you all just standing there?” she asked, perplexed, ‘This is exciting! She’s awake! You should be charging in there.”

“What if she’s different…” Stiles began tentatively, “The doctors said there’d be a chance of memory loss, brain damage, god knows what else… what if the coma, the trauma, the almost dying… what if it changed her?”

“What if she doesn't want us anymore?” Lydia whispered softly, wringing her hands nervously. She needed her best friend like she needed oxygen.

“That’s her choice,” Scott sighed, shrugging, “if she wants to leave this life then that’s her choice… we’ll just have to respect it…”

“Then what if she doesn't even know who we are?” Kira asked, chewing on her bottom lip “what if she’s forgotten us?”

“Should we bring her back into this world or just…” Isaac paused as a lump formed in his throat at the idea he was trying to form, “let her go?”

Eyes were glued to the floor as they stewed in the prospects that faced them, none wanting to break the silence and make the decision for the group. 

“Fuck that.” Malia shook her head, brows raised in irritation as they all turned to face her. “She woke up didn't she? Isn't that proof enough she remembers? If she didn't remember what reason would she have to fight death?” She snorted derisively and reached for the door handle, “you guys are being stupid. Now get in there already.”

Allison looked the same to them as she had the few short hours ago when they had left her. She was still deathly pale, her hair still pooled across the white fabric around her face like a storm cloud and her eyes were still shut on a face of pure, empty calm, yet everything was different. The scent of death had fled the hospital room as if chased out and the crisp burn of chemicals and medicine was all that danced in the sterile air. 

They gathered quietly around her bed, staring down at her in awe that the moment had finally come that she could return to their side. Time slowed and ground to a halt. They held their breath and fought against their thundering hearts. Nobody spoke and nobody moved.

Isaac reached out gingerly and took her hand lightly in his own, squeezing her fingers to feel the callouses that ran along them. He bent forward and pressed his lips against her temple, feeling warmth flowing once more from beneath her skin as if it had never left.

“Allison?” he breathed, straightening up once more, “can you hear me? We’re here.”

Silence, nothing but all consuming silence while the room held onto its breath tighter than they were holding onto each other. They stood as a united force on the precipice, staring directly into the heart of what could have been their undoing, a burning beacon or an all consuming black hole. Either way they were going for it.

They stood and they waited. And Allison Argent opened her eyes.


	3. Pack

Chapter Two  
Pack  
“Bowling?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger werewolf standing before him, puppy eyes wide and imploring. “You’re asking me to come bowling with you, a group of teenagers?”

“Dude, you need to get out more,” Scott explained, “You can’t spend all of your time locked away brooding. You never know, you might even enjoy it. Plus we finally got Alison back, that’s a cause for some celebration.”

Kira nodded enthusiastically in agreement, long dark hair bouncing wildly around her and Derek scowled slightly at the pair, each so completely hooked to each other it was almost sickening to him. They were all heart eyes and saccharin and the idea of spending an entire evening with them made his head pound with dread.

Two weeks, that had been how long it had taken after she woke up till Allison was up and about again and free to return to the greater public. She hadn't taken no for an answer as doctors and nurses insisted she take it easy and stay resting in bed and Derek could understand why. She had spent weeks sleeping, she had rested enough.

“Also your cousin will be there,” Scott added, knowing that the revelation would definitely get Derek interested.

Ever since he had discovered that Malia was Peter’s daughter and therefore his family Derek had been desperately trying to discover some way of contacting her. The Hales weren't the huge, grand family they had once been so it was always important that they were closely knit and he was yet to know a single thing about this girl other than that she existed.

He sighed before rolling his eyes at the two teenagers and grumbling, “Fine, but you better look after your damn betas Mr true alpha because I am not babysitting Isaac again.”

Derek pushed past him and slid the door to his loft shut and locked it behind him, waving away Scott’s attempted retort with his other free hand. Scott and Kira exchanged identical smiles as they hurried after Derek as he descended the stairs that led out of the building, lacing their fingers together automatically as they moved as though the action had been ingrained into their behavior, more of a reflex than anything that involved actual thought anymore. Even so, there was still a definite rush of warmth that flowed through the pair as their hands fit together, his large encompassing her small, that left them both feeling love struck.

Once the three reached the place where the others were waiting by the Jeep Derek’s eyes automatically swept the area, taking in Malia, Stiles and Alison chatting casually as they leaned against Scott’s parked bike, Malia’s eyes crinkled in a smile and Alison covering her mouth as she laughed over whatever Stiles had just said. Isaac too was watching the conversation with a smile as he must have been listening to the conversation with his advanced supernatural hearing as he sat on the hood of the Jeep with Lydia and, to Derek’s surprise, Cora both sat pressed tightly together due to the cramped space. 

Derek’s eyes met Cora’s and he furrowed his brow at her questioningly. She raised her hands as if to say ‘it wasn't me’ so as to not be left with the blame for the night’s upcoming activities. She fidgeted uncomfortably from where she was sandwiched between Isaac and Lydia.

“They got you too huh?” he asked her, crossing the space between them quickly.

“They practically kidnapped me,” she sighed, sliding off the hood of the battered vehicle to greet her brother, “I was just trying to get some grocery shopping done when they pulled me into that piece of crap car.” She caught the increase in the questioning expression Derek wore and shrugged, “what? You need more in that loft than just beer and microwave pizza. It’s not good for a person.”

Derek rolled his eyes at her, fighting to prevent the edges of his mouth from forming a smile because if she knew he was grateful of her mothering him she wasn't likely to let it go easy and she didn't need to have that sort of power over him. 

“I’m sorry but you did not just call the Jeep a piece of crap,” Stiles said in outrage, suddenly swooping into the conversation by peeking his head over Derek’s shoulders, hands clamping down on his shoulders by way of what Derek assumed was a greeting.

“Wait,” Derek paused, holding up a hand to silence him before he continued, “you all came here in that?” He pointed to the four seater-five if you were particularly tiny-car in confusion, “how?”

“With great difficulty,” Isaac groaned, leaving the Jeep’s hood in favor of joining the conversation, “I still can’t feel my feet by the way.”

“But, you did essentially receive a lap dance from your girlfriend so” Stiles argued, waving his arms around wildly to try and encapsulate the point he was trying to make, “in a way you should be thanking me.”

Alison glared at Stiles teasingly before grabbing Isaac by the wrist and saying, “come on. We better all get going if we’re going to be able to get any actual bowling in before the place closes. Come on Derek, if we scoot over a bit more we can fit you in the back too, it’s actually not so cramped once you get in.”

“Definitely not,” Derek denied point blank, “there’s absolutely no way I’m getting in that hunk of junk. I’ll take my car.”

“Well,” Stiles began smugly, rubbing the back of his neck eagerly with what he was about to say, “Good luck doing that without your keys.”

He dashed away before Derek had proper time to process what his words meant and pulled himself agilely into the driver’s seat of the Jeep, followed soon by Lydia happening into the passenger side before anybody had a chance to call shotgun.

Derek ran his hands down the pockets of his coat and felt the definite absence of the usual lump that belonged to his keys just as Stiles raised his clenched left fist out for him to see and opened it to allow his keys to jangle down into view from where they were looped around Stiles’s middle finger.

Derek raised his eyebrows at Scott, “that’s new. Very… trickster like.”

Scott grimaced at him, “Leave it, OK? Things still aren't a hundred percent. We can discuss it later if you want. Right now, we have some bowling to do.”

Derek rolled his eyes in exasperation at the group of teens he had decided to associate himself with and couldn't decide anymore if it was regret or relief he felt at this being his pack. He settled on regret after he squeezed himself into the backseat of the Jeep, being too slow to take the extra space in the front that was instead claimed by the quicker Malia, that then proceeded to grin toothily at them as the remainder of the pack clambered over each other in an effort to fill the space in the back. 

“It’s like a clown car,” she said enthusiastically, eyes wide with enthusiasm.

After much struggling and Derek and Isaac both flashing their fangs threateningly after getting fed up with each other only to be hushed by a venomous glare from Lydia, they ended up with some semblance of order with Derek crushed up against the uncomfortable metal edge of the Jeep with Isaac half in his lap and Cora and Alison squished so tightly together to his right that it was a wonder they could breathe. Scott and Kira of course had taken the easy route out and were instead sharing Scott’s bike, laughing good naturedly at the chaos that had erupted in the Jeep due to the large numbers.

Once they were all seated Stiles stuck his arm out of the window to give Scott a thumbs up and the sound of the dirt bike’s engine roaring into life reverberated noisily through the blanketing quiet of the night air, soon accompanied by the sputtering sound of the Jeep bursting to life. There was a jagged lurch that sent everyone in the backseat ramming more tightly into each other before the Jeep was rumbling forward. 

Derek scowled in annoyance as Isaac fidgeted nervously against him, the closely cramped space clearly triggering his nerves and transporting him back to times spent locked in a freezer. Alison, as if sensing his increasing panic, managed to pull her arm out from where it had been pinned by her side and place it over his hand comfortingly, tilting her head sideways so that it was now resting on his shoulder and he let out an audible sigh of relief.

As much as Derek had once held a strong distaste for Alison he couldn't help but be impressed at her growth since he first knew her. Gone was the terrified girl, the manipulated girl, the Argent made a fool by family codes and also gone with all of these former versions of herself was any sort of person that Derek could dislike.

She was pack now three hundred percent and that meant they had to set aside their differences whether they truly wanted to or not. He had to accept that it was Kate that had killed his family and not she and she had to accept that he hadn't meant to bite her mother and had instead been trying only to save Scott. 

Derek glanced over his shoulder to catch sight of Scott and Kira still close on their tail, riding in the Jeep’s slipstream to conserve the bike’s pitiful fuel tank, then his eyes roamed around the inside of the jeep to land on another pair of intertwined hands resting on the Jeep’s center dash. Stiles and Lydia. 

Derek nudged Isaac as he noticed and nodded at it questioningly, raising his eyebrows at the beta to silently say ‘what the hell is going on there?’ Isaac shrugged slightly and Alison smiled knowingly and waved a hand at him to say ‘it’s nothing important. Later.’

“Use your words guys,” Malia said suddenly, causing the three teens in the back seat to jump and clash heads in their surprise, much to Derek’s amusement. She had been watching them in her side mirror and her eyes met Derek’s for a second causing her to spin around where she was sitting to face them, “I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Malia, I’m a werecoyote, and apparently I’m your cousin.”

“Derek,” he answered gruffly, holding out a hand for her to shake which she took with a surprisingly strong grip for a girl of her small stature, “so sorry about whatever genetics you inherited from my uncle.”

“No Peter talk,” Lydia cut in sharply, turning around to join the conversation as well, hand still clasped with Stiles’s, “we’re out to have fun and anything to do with that creep is not fun. How about we talk about something a little more light hearted?”

“How about we talk about the driver giving me back my keys?” Derek said curtly, eyes boring into the back of Stiles’s head as he kept his own gaze fixed on the red light they had stopped at.

Stiles gave a short laugh, “not a chance sourwolf. I’m keeping them as insurance to make sure you can’t just leave. Tonight you are going to have fun with us whether you want to or not.”

“Alright then how about I hold the driver down and take the keys from him by force?” Derek snarled through gritted teeth.

“How about,” Cora joined the conversation, jaw set with her irritation at the pair, “you both stop acting like children fighting over a toy. Stiles it’s the next left, just up here.”

Stiles flicked the indicator on swiftly as he pulled his hand up into a salute, “yes ma’am.”

The Jeep pulled up smoothly into an almost entirely abandoned car park save for a few late night shoppers under flickering streetlamps, and stuttered to a halt. Scott and Kira pulled up on the bike beside them, and they all hurried to try and force themselves out of the cramped conditions that were steadily overheating with the amount of people all breathing so close together the moment the engine cut out. 

Scott and Kira both swung themselves off the bike elegantly and shed their helmets with a slight flourish, holding back laughter at the sight of the remainder of their pack all spilling awkwardly out of the Jeep as a mass of writhing limbs and irritated groans. 

“Explain to me again why we couldn't take my car?” Derek moaned, rubbing his sore arm that had been crushed for the duration of the trip.

“Cheap bonding experiences obviously,” Stiles answered, locking the doors on either side hastily, “now hurry, these coupons only last for another few hours.”

The group of them hastened to enter the run down old bowling alley sprawled before them, Derek unable to hide his slight grin as he was swept along in the eager gaggle of people. The man waiting half asleep at the counter, his eyes sweeping across the glossy spread of a magazine, nearly had a coronary when he took in the large group of noisy people that bustled up to him and Stiles handed over the crumbled handful of coupons for free bowling. 

What proceeded was further noisy chaos as they all tried to collect their bowling shoes at once, much to the distress of the staff that were still working so late at night as clearly none of them had been expecting more people to turn up. But somehow they managed to all get shoes and get matches lined up on the ancient, flickering TV screens hooked to the faded blue ceiling above the lanes.

Derek somehow ended up sitting next to Malia, though this may have been more due to other members of the bowling party’s intervention, and he took the opportunity to try and get a read on the girl.

“Is it always this loud with them?” he leaned across to ask, sweeping his hand across the remainder of the pack as they continued to cause a ruckus.

“Always,” Malia replied with a smirk, “It’s horrible and it kind of makes me hate them but it grows on you.” she smiled across at him, “you should try it more often.” She paused to survey the group before concluding, “It’s a good kind of loud you know? The kind that leaves your ears ringing afterwards but you don’t really mind that much. Like at a party or on a motorbike.”

Derek returned her smile with a small one of his own, “are you going to be sticking around here? I mean with the pack or are you going to just go back to trying to live a normal life?”

She snorted slightly, tossing her long, mousy waves of hair over her shoulder, “I don’t think I could ever get back to a normal life after all of the stuff I've seen and done. Also I don’t really have much of a normal life to go back to anymore…” she trailed off sadly, eyes downcast, “I can’t even look at my dad without feeling guilty, I had to get out of there.”

“Where are you staying?” he asked, hoping to lighten the subject slightly, not liking the sad look that had fogged up her eyes.

“Uh…” she said thoughtfully, “the woods mostly.”

Derek raised his brows at her disapprovingly and she shrugged her embarrassment. “No,” he said, “completely unacceptable. You’re coming and living with me and Cora.”

She mimicked his raised eyebrows, “OK? You barely even know me though. How do you know I won’t murder you in your sleep or something?”

“Because you’re family,” Derek said sincerely, “and you’re pack.”

She snorted again at the word, “pack. Typically a pack would be made up of all wolves and the last I checked you wolves are outnumbered by the non-wolf members of the pack.”

Derek inclined his head in agreement, “fair point.”

“I mean we've our big bad alpha Scott,” she began, pointing a finger at the alpha who was sitting at a bench beside Isaac, with a mouthful of pizza that he was choking on through his intense laughter.

“’Big bad’,” Derek echoed, encompassing the word in air quotes.

“Maybe not,” Malia agreed, “then there’s your betas Isaac and Cora,” Isaac was clapping Scott hard on the back to try and dislodge the pizza caught in his throat with as much force as he could as he was doubled over with his own laughter and Cora was out at the front of the lane, bowling ball held aloft, “and you.” Malia paused thoughtfully before continuing, “So that’s all strictly by the norm but then you've got your werecoyote, me.” She jabbed a finger at herself, “your fox, Kira.” Kira was bouncing worriedly around her still choking boyfriend, “your banshee, Lydia.” Lydia’s perfectly manicured hands had secured a bowling ball of her own and she was striding confidently up to take her turn, “your hunter, Alison, who should be trying to kill people like you and me.”

Derek followed her finger to where the hunter in question was sat on the other side of Isaac, using one hand to try and calm Kira down and the other to wipe away the tears that had formed at the edges at her eyes from laughter and found it almost surreal as he voiced his disbelief, “as much as I've thought about I couldn't honestly see her trying to kill me… and I've seen her try to kill me.”

“OK so there’s some drama in that back story, I’d rather not go into that,” Malia said, holding up a hand to stop him, “so that’s your pack… Oh wait!” her hand shot up again as she pointed again through the gaggle of people, “I forgot Stiles, the… uh… it started with an ‘n’.”

“Nogitsune,” Derek helped her, “he was possessed by a nogitsune, but not anymore.”

“Oh,” Malia watched the gangly boy as he flicked a piece of pepperoni at the no longer choking Scott, “so what do I classify him as now?”

Derek’s brows furrowed deeply for a second as he too followed Stiles’s movements, noticed how much more fluid they had become and the way his fingers rippled and danced rhythmically over the surface of the bowling ball as he grabbed it for his turn in such a way they wouldn't have done prior to somebody else wearing his skin.

“A trickster,” he finally said before he could stop himself.

Malia glanced sidelong at him and opened her mouth to continue the conversation when Cora plopped down beside her and said, “It’s your turn Malia.”

Malia pushed herself lithely out of her chair and left Derek sitting with his sister, still watching the boy he had just dubbed trickster as he crossed back over to his spot beside Alison. 

“What’s up with you?” Cora asked, sliding along the bench to claim Malia’s previous space beside him and nudging him the ribs, “you look like someone just kicked your puppy.” She followed his gaze to where it rested on Stiles and sighed knowingly, “You noticed it too huh?” 

Derek turned his attention to her and nodded, searching her face for some form of clue as to gauge her reaction to it, “not just me, Scott too. How long’s it been a thing to notice?”

Cora shrugged, “I noticed it the moment I got back because I wasn't there during the whole mess with the nogitsune after all and so it was like meeting a completely different person. I suppose maybe it was more difficult for the others because they were face to face with him when he wasn't him so they were probably just happy when he stopped trying to kill them and started joking again. But they’re all starting to see it, gradually…” she reached down to where a drink rested on the ground and raised it to sip from it calmly, “there’s something not right…”

“It’s nothing dangerous at least,” Derek replied, his expression softening slightly at his own comforting words, “it’s just… unsettling. That thing that was inside of him… honestly it was terrifying. It handed our collective asses to us like it was nothing time and time again and it’s basically a miracle we’re all sitting here today, so seeing little things like that makes me worried that maybe, just maybe… this was all just another trick.”

Cora punched him in the arm roughly and he flinched with the pain, “don’t say things like that!” She snapped at him, shoving him again, “You've got a room of witnesses that all saw that thing leave his body and later die all you’re doing by saying things like that is freaking yourself out and by extension me thank you very much. So shut up and eat your damn pizza and let me kick your ass at bowling.” She roughly handed him a paper plate with a slice of greasy pizza on it irritably, “oh and smile would you? It won’t kill you to actually enjoy yourself, or at least pretend to enjoy yourself. Nobody’s close to death for a change that’s reason enough to smile.”

Cora gave him one final, vindictive scowl before she rose from her spot and crossed the room to where Isaac, Kira, Stiles and Malia had engaged in what appeared to an intense game of rock, paper, scissors that was apparently a serious enough ordeal that it was necessary for Stiles to have tied his red plaid shirt around his head like a bandanna, for Isaac to have his sleeves rolled all the way up, for Malia to have the hood on her jacket pulled up to cast a heavy shadow over her face and for Kira to be wearing an expression that anywhere else would have screamed murder.

Derek shook his head at the teens exasperatedly with a small smile and took a bite from the pizza Cora had ordered him to eat. There was far too much cheese and the pepperoni was overcooked and his mouth was filled with the slimy, soggy crust unpleasantly but he continued to chew if only to satiate his younger sister’s frustration at him. A body thumped down beside him and he turned to see Scott’s puppy dog eyes beaming at him cheerily.

“Having fun?” the alpha asked him, scooping up the drink Cora had previously been drinking from and downing it in one gulp.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him as if the question was the most idiotic thing he had ever heard and answered, “I’m spending my Friday night bowling with a group of teenagers when there are many other adult things I could have been doing.”

“Sitting brooding in the dark doesn't count as adult things,” Scott chuckled, “come on man! Surely this is better than sitting alone in a dark loft.”

It was, but there was no way Derek would admit such a thing to his young alpha, not when he already spent enough time fighting to be taken seriously. He missed a time when the teens had been intimidated by him. 

A crash echoed through the bowling alley and the group of teens all fell silent at once, eyes all drawn to the source of the noise to see Kira sprawled across the ground, rubbing the back of her head from where it had bumped into the wood flooring, a hole opened up in the ceiling above her and a bowling ball missing from where they had previously had four. The young kitsune smiled apologetically at the damage she had caused to the bowling alley from her slipping and launching a bowling balled aimed at the pins before her straight up instead. 

It took all of a minute before the staff descended and they were hurriedly being kicked out of the establishment, stopping Derek for a brief second only to pay for the damage due to his being the only adult at the scene. Then the group were all standing around outside the bowling alley with clocks ticking over to eleven thirty in a bit of a bewildered daze, Kira spouting endless apologies and hiding her face in her embarrassment.

And Derek was laughing, loudly and openly, with his hands on his knees to keep him upright as it rippled out of his body. Here he was, a twenty five year old man, surrounded by a gaggle of supernatural seventeen year olds after having been kicked out of a bowling alley that had just robbed him of over two hundred dollars and he couldn't stop himself from laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole ordeal. 

The others all watched in bewilderment as the typically stoic and reserved, grim faced werewolf dissolved into raucous laughter, unsure of how to react to the sudden unfamiliarity of the whole scene until Derek saved them the trouble of trying to fumble for words by straightening up and clapping his hands together decisively.

“Alright Stiles give me my keys,” he ordered, still chuckling slightly, “I am now two hundred dollars poorer so you all owe me a decent meal.”

Stiles chuckled apologetically as he extricated Derek’s keys from his pocket and held them up.

“Chinese?”

***  
Derek didn't have a proper living area at his loft, not that Lydia was surprised or anything, the place was so empty that it could barely be recognized as a home that a human being would actually live in. It was still an irritation though as she claimed a white container filled with Chinese food and stood surveying everyone sprawled throughout the loft.

Isaac and Alison had managed to perch themselves upon the table over by the large windows that hid a balcony behind them, sharing a box of noodles between them and speaking in hushed whispers that Lydia was fairly sure she didn't want to know the specific details of judging by the flush creeping up Isaac’s neck.

Cora, Kira and Derek were all sharing the couch in front of the TV with Malia sitting on the floor in front of them using their legs as cushioning, all passing along white boxes between them so they each ate a bit of whatever each contained. Kira was absentmindedly playing with Malia’s hair as she chewed, often leading to Cora being forced to feed her like a child as she forgot to use her hands to take a box from her.

Scott and Stiles were both in the kitchen, Scott sitting cross legged on the counter top with a white box in hand and Stiles crouched down rummaging fervently through the cupboard under the sink.

Lydia went over to join Scott and Stiles in the kitchen, her heels clicking over the concrete flooring noisily so that Scott looked up and saw her approaching, flashing her a smile that was filled with bits of food. 

“What on earth are you looking for?” she asked as she got into human level hearing earshot.

Stiles didn't look up at the sound of her voice and instead continued to rummage wildly, eyes darting back and forth between everything he found there, “I dunno, something.”

“Very helpful,” she said, pushing herself up onto the bench to sit beside Scott and join him in watching Stiles continue to rummage. She leaned closer to Scott so only he would hear her and whispered to him, “What is he doing?”

“He does it whenever we go places,” Scott whispered back, “it makes him less nervous.”

Stiles straightened up from checking under the sink and instead flung open the cupboard beside the fridge, shifting cans and packets as he searched through it.

“What’s he doing, looking for a bomb or something?” she muttered sarcastically before her face fell as she realized what she said, “oh… of course he is… right.”

Scott shrugged at her, grim faced, “having a nogitsune running around town screwing with us has left us all a bit paranoid. He’s just a bit worse.”

Lydia nodded sadly, wrapping some noodles in her container around her plastic fork quietly as laughter could be heard from over at the couch. Stiles finished up with the cupboard beside the fridge and let out a shaky sigh of relief, holding out a hand to Scott, who obliged by handing his friend a plastic fork and offering him his box of rice. 

“Everything good?” Lydia asked, scanning his face worriedly.

Stiles gave her a weak smile and nodded, “yeah fine. We’re safe.”

He took the rice from Scott and swirled it around in the container with his fork methodically, looking back and forth between Scott and Lydia as silence stretched over the three of them. 

“Let’s go sit with the others,” Lydia suggested, saving either of them the trouble of trying to start a conversation.

Scott nodded and hurried to follow up with the idea, dashing over to take the spot on the couch beside Kira that Cora had vacated in preference of perching on the arm of the chair as Kira began to slowly braid Malia’s hair between her fingers, eyes still fixed on the TV though as if she wasn't even aware that she was doing it.

Lydia looked back at Stiles, who was still twitching with nervous energy, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet as he picked at the edges of the Chinese food container. 

“Come on,” Lydia ushered him, reaching out and grabbing his hand and pulling it away from the Chinese with her own.

Lydia pulled Stiles along by the hand like he were her balloon over to sit on the floor beside Cora and Malia, trying desperately to ignore the warm tingling sensation that was spreading up her arm from the point where their hands were linked, fingers slotted like neat puzzle pieces around each other. Stiles deposited the Chinese food in Scott’s lap as the pair took a seat before the TV, hands still linked as they used Scott and Kira’s legs for back support. 

A few minutes passed before Isaac and Alison came over to join them, Isaac perching on the other arm of the chair as Cora had and Alison managing to squeeze her small figure in between Kira and Derek, much to Derek’s annoyance clearly judging by the put out expression that took over his features after she had settled and crushed them all together uncomfortably. Kira’s head slowly fell to the side to rest upon Scott’s shoulder and Isaac reached a hand around behind Derek that Alison reached up and took with her own, bending her arm awkwardly to do so but not seeming to mind as their fingers meshed together. 

Minutes ticked by as they all sat in sleepy silence, watching whatever flicked by on the TV, achieving a level of peace that their previous activities of the evening made it seem that it was impossible for them to achieve. 

Isaac was the one to break the silence, “not that this isn't great and all but it’s late and I am dead tired and Stiles you’re my ride so…” 

Isaac nodded his head in the direction of the door and Stiles immediately responded, “Right, OK, I’ll go start up the Jeep. Back in a sec.”

He pulled his long, lanky body upright and sprinted out of the loft, only delayed by getting his own limbs caught as he tried to open the door.

“I should probably get going too,” Kira chimed in, straightening up from where she had been curled into Scott’s side, “Isaac you can go with Scott, I’ll take your place in the Jeep. It only makes sense seeing as you two are going to the same place.”

They all began to unfurl themselves from the wad they had formed on the couch and floor, straightening and stretching their cramped and crushed limbs and were in the process of initiating farewells when Stiles barreled back through the door, out of breath.

“Slight problem,” he puffed, tilting his head back to the ceiling so his struggling lungs could capture more air, “she’s dead.”

Lydia stiffened where she stood as dread began to fill her at the mention of death, “who’s dead?”

“The Jeep,” Stiles moaned, “my baby. She rides no more.”

There was a tangible release of tension from the group as they all exhaled at the false alarm and instead glared at the messenger.

“I told you that car was a piece of shit,” Isaac grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Hey,” Stiles said indignantly, looking utterly outraged, “my Jeep is not a piece of shit… well not completely… well… she’s old is all. Old and battered. Dealt with a lot of supernatural bullshit in that Jeep OK. Saved your asses from Jackson when he was all kanima crazy didn't it? Show her some respect!”

“Is showing your Jeep respect going to get me home?” Alison asked sarcastically, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“I can give you a lift,” Derek offered, pushing himself too off of the sofa.

“No you can’t,” Cora interjected, “your cars at the shop.”

“Why?” Derek asked, suddenly suspicious, “what did you do?”

“Nothing,” She snapped back, irritated by his mistrust, “something was broken though, it kept rattling. Now it’s getting fixed. Simple solution.”

“You could have told me that,” Stiles said flatly, “I didn't need to take his keys after all.”

“You didn't need to in the first place,” Cora argued, “you wanted to.” She sighed at the situation they were now forced in and said, “Look how about you guys just crash here tonight and we can fix the Jeep tomorrow, OK?”

“Yeah it could work,” Derek conceded, tilting his head in thought, “if you don’t all mind waking up crippled from sleeping on the floor.”

“Ah but you see dear brother there is one thing you don’t know about your precious loft. This sofa is more than just a sofa,” Cora began, steadily ushering everyone away from the sofa hurriedly, “it is also,” she kicked at the side of it and it unfolded, “a bed.”

“That’s been a bed this whole time?” Derek asked, stepping forward to inspect it in shock, “I’ve been sleeping on it as a sofa this whole time when it was really a bed?!” He turned to glare at Cora in outrage, “why didn't you tell me?”

“I had a bet going with Isaac,” she explained unconcernedly, “thank you by the way you just made me twenty bucks.”

“You couldn't have just figured it out sooner could you,” Isaac said huffily, pulling twenty dollars from his pocket and clapping it down into Cora’s outstretched hand.

“So a slumber party then,” Kira squeaked happily, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet in her enthusiasm, “who wants popcorn?”

Surprisingly microwave popcorn was something that Derek possessed in his bare cupboard and Kira and Scott hurriedly set about sticking the packaging in the microwave as everybody separated to perform their own separate tasks, both bending forward so their faces were almost pressed against the glass to watch in a childlike way as it span and began to pop noisily. Lydia smirked at them as she opened up the fridge to search for something to drink, they really were a perfect pair. 

Lydia quickly discovered that while Derek possessed an abundance of different varieties of microwaveable pizzas he was severely lacking in drink variety.

“Ok,” she called to whoever was listening, “we have a choice of beer, beer, beer, beer or beer.”

“I think you mean water,” Derek corrected her, leaning against the bench beside her and pointing at the sink, “no underage drinking in my loft.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Lydia smirked at him, twisting open a bottle and taking a swig from it before he could protest, “What does it matter? I thought werewolves couldn't get drunk anyway.”

“Common misconception,” he said with a smirk, “supernaturals can get drunk just like anybody else. It’s just not an easy task.”

Lydia shook her head in exasperation and yelled, “Malia how are we going with movies?”

She turned her attention to where the werecoyote was crouched in front of the TV, sorting through the draws that it was set upon.

“Well,” Malia began distractedly, still hurriedly flicking her fingers through the lines of DVDs, “you really shouldn't have put me in charge of movies…” she straightened up and smiled awkwardly at the other girl, “I've never heard of any of these.”

“Right… eight years in the woods,” Lydia sighed, putting a hand over her face in embarrassment of her having forgotten.

“I’ll help,” Alison offered, dumping the blankets she had been collecting from the linen closet into Stiles’s arms and going to Malia’s aid. 

The microwave beeped noisily and Scott and Kira both hurried in unison to open it, resulting in the bag of popcorn somehow flying through the air to be caught by an exasperated Derek.

“OK, you two go do…” he waved his hand absently to shoo them away, “something else.”

Lydia smirked at the older man as he reached for the bowl that had been left prepared on the bench for the popcorn and reached into the fridge to pass him a beer.

“Thanks,” he muttered, accepting it gratefully and knocking the cap off on the side of the bench, “I’m going to need more than one if I’m going to spend an entire night looking after that lot.”

“Welcome to my world,” Lydia said with a smirk, stretching out her bottle towards him so that they could knock them together softly as a show of camaraderie. 

Derek finished emptying the packet of popcorn out into the bowl and yelled across the room, “Isaac!”

The younger beta looked up expectantly from where he had joined Alison and Malia in inspecting the movies and Derek threw the bowl of popcorn skilfully across the room, much to Lydia’s shock. Isaac took a short step forward and caught the bowl down against his stomach as though it were a football, eyes wild with exhilaration at the game. 

“Show off,” Lydia teased.

Derek smirked at her cockily, reaching into the fridge that she was still holding open to pull out an armful of beers for the remainder of the pack, disregarding his previous disapproval of underage drinking. 

He tossed them at the other three werewolves and Kira, knowing that supernatural speed would make it an easy task for them to accomplish, raising his eyebrows questioningly at Malia and Alison before judging that it was appropriate to throw their drinks too as they both possessed skill enough to catch them. Lydia thought it wise that he instead decided to pass Stiles’s to him, as much as it was to his outrage. 

Lydia followed his lead in abandoning the kitchen and going over to join the congregation occurring as sheets, pillows and heavy blankets were laid out over the now properly assembled sofa bed. It was going to be a tight fight to squeeze all nine of them onto the small expanse of blankets and pillows as the bed had surely only been intended to fit two people but nobody else seemed to mind so Lydia shed her heels smoothly and placed them neatly behind the couch before being the first to take a seat upon the sofa bed, scooting back and adjusting a pillow so that she could take up as minuscule an amount of space as possible. 

A squabble seemed to be taking place over films at the front between Stiles, Derek, Scott and Alison so it was Kira who joined Lydia first, nestling in close on her left side and resting her head on her shoulder. Lydia smiled at the other girl and let her head roll to rest upon the top of her head lightly, appreciating the overflowing warmth and affection that was constantly spilling out of the girl more with every day that she knew her.

Scott joined them next, popcorn in hand, leaving the others to bicker as he squished in beside Kira, capturing her hand with his own and holding it in his lap, playing with her fingers happily. Then it was Cora flopping down beside him, rolling her eyes at the commotion still happening at the front and Malia filled the remaining space to Lydia’s right, snuggling in close as Kira had, trying to warm her constantly cold body. 

Isaac settled down on the floor in front of the couch and Alison hunkered down beside him as the argument disbanded so that the pair were out of sight of those sitting up on the sofa bed. Derek left Stiles to start whichever movie their argument had resulted in and reclined in front of the four girls and Scott, his too long body resulting in his legs dangling off the end near Isaac’s head as he angled his body to use Scott’s legs as a pillow. 

The screen before them all flashed to life, eliciting several soft cheers from the gathering and the appreciative raising of several beer bottles before Stiles too joined the gathering on the bed, lying back so that his head rested in the dip between Lydia and Malia’s knees and resting his beer bottle on his stomach as the movie began to play. 

Malia didn't know the name of the movie that had been decided on, even though the title had flashed up at the beginning her memory had discarded it once she discovered how little she was interested in it. She took a swig from her drink to try and occupy herself in preparation for an agonizing hour and a half before she discovered a new way in which she could pass the time. Instead of watching the movie, she watched the people that were watching it. 

She let her eyes sweep across the group, attempting to dedicate every little mannerism and quirk she noticed to memory, like how Scott kept forgetting to share the popcorn until Kira nudged him and he would pass it along through the group and the way Cora would drum her fingers against the sides of her beer without any form of distinguished pattern that could be pointed out. 

The way Isaac would bob his head in time to the soundtrack of the movie subconsciously and Alison covered her mouth when she laughed in attempt to hide the fact that she snorted a little as she did so. How Derek’s fangs seemed to appear for a split second whenever he yawned and how you could tell if Lydia was smiling genuinely if she rolled her lips out of sight before she did so. 

Kira’s playing with the ends of her hair and Stiles’s nail biting, Malia engraved it all into her mind with a smile as she noticed each thing.

Sure they were an odd bunch she had found herself with but the little things she noticed that made them feel more real to her. It stopped Scott from just being a werewolf or Alison from just being a hunter, it made them into people in three dimensions. It made them into something to care about. She leaned further into Lydia and the banshee wrapped an arm around her casually, eyes still fixed on the movie. 

Malia could get used to being in a pack.


End file.
